


Just a Kiss — GL

by Writer_Of_Life



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Boys Kissing, M/M, Mycroft Holmes Has Feelings, Mycroft loves Lestrade, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 05:47:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20522930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writer_Of_Life/pseuds/Writer_Of_Life
Summary: Sometimes a kiss is just a kiss. Sometimes it's not.





	Just a Kiss — GL

It seemed easier to think that nothing would come of it — just a kiss. That is all that it was, but if Lestrade was being honest with himself, he knew it was so much more. It wasn’t meant to happen like that, he knew that much. He could feel that in his bones, but there was nothing to be done about it now.

_ “Mr. Holmes, you don’t need to worry yourself with this,” he had said, standing a little too close to the politician under the guise of taking shelter from the rain beneath his umbrella. “I’ll send you a full report when Sherlock is finished mucking about in this downpour.”_

_Mycroft had smiled at him and not moved away. In fact, if his mind wasn’t playing tricks, the politician seemed to move closer. Then it happened. _

_A man raced by, Sherlock hot on his heels followed by the ever present John Watson, when suddenly the suspect tripped, throwing his hand out to grasp at Mycroft. Lestrade pushed the politician against the wall in an instinct to protect to younger man. Sherlock dove into the mud to detain the criminal. _

_Lestrade was still pressed against Mycroft from chest to knees and suddenly the last decade of brief touches, stolen glances and lingering looks came to a boiling point under his skin. He leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to Mycroft’s. There was no movement for a few heart-wrenching seconds then fingers were in his hair and Mycroft’s tongue was on his lips. Those few seconds were blissful, then Sherlock appeared. _

_“Mycroft!” Sherlock all but screamed, his frustration at their activity evident. The politician pulled away abruptly, color rising on his cheeks as he looked guiltily at his little brother. Then the politican was gone, taking all of their shared warmth with him. _

_“Ta for that, you wanker,” Lestrade growled at the detective as he got back to work, but Sherlock was too immersed in John’s praises to hear anything else. _

He slumped at his desk and kicked off his shoes, blushing at the memory. He was soaked through and could think of nothing more satisfying than taking a long, warm shower. The copper just wished he wouldn’t be alone.

He laughed at himself. What a silly thought to preoccupy himself with. _How boring._ It should have been more disturbing to him that his subconscious voice was beginning to sound a lot like a certain consulting detective, but he was too tired. Too cold. Too everything.

His phone chirped in his coat across his office, but he didn’t move to pick it up. Then it rang. Still, he remained seated. He could check it later when he was done beating himself up for allowing such a stupid thing to happen. After all, he may have actually had a chance with the British Government before such an idiot move, but not now.

Sherlock had clearly shown his distain and surely Mycroft would heed his brother’s opinion on the matter and stay away. It didn’t seem fair.

_“Gregory.”_ That faint whisper would be something to hold on to for later, Lestrade thought. It would more than likely be all that he would ever have to hold on to.

“Damn it, Sherlock,” Lestrade whispered to himself. “We would have been wonderful together.”

“Do you think so, Detective Inspector?” Lestrade came out of his chair at the voice suddenly in his office. He turned to see Mycroft leaning against the closed door.

Lestrade hadn’t even heard him come in.

“I do, Mr. Holmes,” he smiled, cautiously.

There were only two reasons the British Government would be standing in his office after the incident this afternoon — punishment or reward. Mycroft didn’t let his smile show, but Lestrade could see a tiny curl on his lip — reward, then.

“Sorry to surprise you, but you refused to answer your phone,” he said as he moved toward the desk. He had lost his overcoat and suit jacket somewhere along the way and now he stood before the inspector’s desk in only his waistcoat and sleeves.

Mycroft studied Lestrade’s face. “You didn’t think you’d see me again so soon, I see.”

Lestrade openly grinned at the man as he moved around the desk to stand directly in front of the politician. “I had hoped, but sometimes a kiss is just a kiss,” Lestrade said.

Mycroft raised his hand, threaded his fingers through the inspector’s hair and pulled him forward.

“Not this time, Detective Inspector,” Mycroft whispered across his lips before he kissed the policeman for the second time in less than an hour. “We _will_ be wonderful together.”


End file.
